My Deathbed Wish: His True Love

Grace's POV: I woke to the stark whiteness of a hospital room ceiling. For a disorienting moment, I thought I was back in my first life, in those final, fading days. But the air smelled different, cleaner. I was alive. A young nurse bustled in, her face breaking into a wide smile when she saw my open eyes. "You' re awake! Oh, thank goodness! You' ve been unconscious for two days. We were so worried." She checked my vitals, chattering away. "You were brought in as a Jane Doe. All your ID was lost in the water. We almost had to stop treatment, you know, hospital policy and all… but then…" My voice was a dry, raspy whisper. "Did… did anyone come to see me?" The nurse' s cheerful expression faltered. She looked at me with pity. "No, honey. No one. It' s strange, though. The other young woman who was brought in from the same incident, the one named Bianca? Her room is like a revolving door of visitors and specialists from all over the world. Her fiancé, a Mr. Day, hasn' t left her side." A hollow laugh escaped my lips. Of course. It was exactly as it should be. I had engineered this. I had no right to be surprised, and yet, the confirmation still felt like a punch to the gut. I was nothing. Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door. "Excuse me," a deep, familiar voice said. "I' m looking for Grace Daniels." My head snapped up so fast my neck ached. Standing in the doorway was a tall, impeccably dressed man. His shoulders were broad, his presence commanding, yet his eyes, a warm, gentle brown, were fixed on me with an expression of profound relief and anguish. Derek. My step-brother. My protector. The one constant rock in the stormy sea of my life. Tears I didn' t know I had left began to stream down my face. "Derek," I choked out. He was across the room in three long strides. He didn' t say anything. He just gathered me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest as if he was afraid I might disappear. I buried my face in his shirt, which smelled of sandalwood and safety, and sobbed. "I was on a business trip in Tokyo when I heard about the incident at the Day estate," he murmured into my hair, his voice rumbling with suppressed anger. "I knew. I just knew you were involved. I' ve been looking for you ever since." He pulled back, his hands framing my face, his thumbs gently wiping away my tears. "No one is ever going to hurt you again, Grace. I promise." He looked at me, his gaze so intense it felt like he was looking directly into my soul. "Let' s go home," he said. Not to the Day estate. Not to the life I had so painfully shed. But to his home. Our home. Within hours, Derek had me discharged and bundled onto his private jet. As the plane taxied down the runway and lifted into the sky, I looked out the window at the city lights shrinking below. I was leaving Jack' s world behind. I thought of him in that hospital room, holding Bianca' s hand, whispering promises of love and protection. I had given him that. I had given him the life he had wished for on my deathbed. A tear escaped and I quickly wiped it away. This was not a moment for sadness. It was a moment of liberation. Goodbye, Jack, I thought, as the plane broke through the clouds and soared toward Switzerland, toward a new life. Be happy. And this time, please, let us never meet again. Derek took my hand, his grip warm and steady. "You' ll never be alone again," he promised, his voice a low, comforting anchor. And for the first time in two lifetimes, I actually believed it. The future was unknown, my body was a traitor, but I was not alone. I was finally, truly, free.